The Twelve Labours of Kéylfos
by JabbaScript
Summary: Kéylfos is a newly hatched squirtle, with a very dark secret that even he does not know.


**Prologue**

If one had looked upon Kéylfos before it all started, they would have seen any other newly hatched squirtle splashing around on the light blue shore. They would have seen the cheery smile on his pale blue face, the soft glow of his delicate skin in the midsummer sun. They would have smiled as they watched him frolic in the shallow waters of the beach, releasing a collection of shimmering bubbles with delightful hiccups.

However, one would not have noticed how the water surrounding his shell seemed to glisten more vibrantly than the rest, or how the tide around him hadn't budged, though he had been playing on the shore for a few hours. Perhaps the most significant trait about that young squirtle was the barely visible markings that ran along the circumference of his shell and encircled the top of his head.

No, the unknowing stranger would not have picked up on any of these telltale signs. They would not know the impact he would come to bring upon their world. They might not have noticed the two arbok slithering out from the brush and heading straight toward the vulnerable infant, flicking their tongues into the air, fangs dripping with evil intent..

* * *

Chelóna set down the assortment of berries she had just picked, turning toward the path that led to the shore. As she walked out from beneath the trees, the serene smile on her deep blue face vanished, replaced by a worried frown. Kéylfos was not on the beach. 'Don't get carried away, Chelóna,' she told herself. Everything is fine. Perfect, as everything else on the island.

She tried to hide the fear from her face as she walked back into the clearing. Dáskalos, the island's battle instructor, was sitting on the grass. The age-worn Blastoise didn't even look up from the half-completed bracelet he had been working on for the past week.

'Chelóna,' he smiled. 'What troubles you?'

'It's Kéylfos,' she replied. Her frown returned, no longer trying to hide her concern. To attempt to hide anything from Dáskalos was futile. 'He's not on the beach.'

Dáskalos' bright green eyes lost their vivacity. The smile on his leathery face turned downward to a distressed grimace. 'You suspect Aftí is involved.'

Her heart panged with fear. It was so much worse knowing she wasn't the only one thinking it. 'Y-yes,' she stammered, 'I fear so.'

He stood up, letting the bracelet fall to the ground. It hit the ground with a soft _chink!_ 'We shall gather the clan and begin to search for him,' he stated. 'Fear not, young Chelóna. He may still be on the island.'

They walked back to the hollow where the clan was assembled. They were in the midst of a game of bálaneró. 'My friends,' he started, hands raised. 'There has been somewhat of an incident.' At this, the hollow became silent. Seeing Chelóna there, her face stricken with fear, was a very unusual sight, especially for those on the island of Outottía. The island had always been a sort of paradise. Nothing ever seemed to be wrong. Dáskalos now had their full attention.

'Kéylfos was last seen on the beach, but he is there no longer.' He waited a few seconds, searching for any sign that they had come across the same suspicion that he and Chelóna had. They had never been in such a situation. They didn't know how to react. They knew of Aftí, of course, but they had never really thought she would attempt anything. The fear was in their eyes, though, so he pressed on.

'We will begin searching immediately,' he stated. At once, the clan came forward as Dáskalos showed them where to go.

As they set off, Chelóna's eyes darted around, searching for her son. Quite often, the blastoise beside her would lay his hand on her shoulder, telling her that she needed to slow down and keep in formation, so that they could be thorough.

They had already walked half the length of the island, and still no sign of Kéylfos. The light was growing faint, the sky now had an orange hue. A tear rolled down her cheek. She was beginning to lose hope, when-

'I've found him!' one of the clan shouted. 'He's alright!'

Chelóna quickly turned in the direction the voice came from. The smile returned to her face, restoring its dark blue color. She almost tripped over a fallen tree, not paying attention to where she was going, all her focus on her son.

The voice belonged to Aitón. He was standing over little Kéylfos, an amused look on his strong face. This puzzled Chelóna. She could understand the smile, but what did he think was so funny?

As she drew near, she understood why he was so amused. Sitting on the dirt was Kéylfos, a beaming smile on his face and a strangled Arbok in each hand.


End file.
